


tame the ghosts in my head

by lakilaes



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Backstory, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Vex/Money except not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-11
Updated: 2015-11-11
Packaged: 2018-05-01 02:17:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5188364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lakilaes/pseuds/lakilaes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vex is the one who watched their mother sing them to sleep, the one who saw the hopelessness threaded within their mother's eyes when she thought they weren't watching her. Vex has always been watching; Vax has always been living.</p>
            </blockquote>





	tame the ghosts in my head

**Author's Note:**

> For the prompt by [criticalrolesource](http://criticalrolesource.tumblr.com): Vex, Bitch Better Have My Money
> 
> This deviates pretty wildly from the original prompt, mostly because it turned into Vex backstory fic about why Vex loves money so much. So, it got a lot more serious than anticipated, oops?

They don't have much, as children: barely the clothes on their backs, barely two meals planned beforehand, just the love of their mother to sustain them. It's not that Vax doesn't notice like she does, exactly, but that he's always been a little too optimistic for his own good; he's always been able to look past the nights, hungry, and the days, cold. Vex is the one who watched their mother sing them to sleep, the one who saw the hopelessness threaded within their mother's eyes when she thought they weren't watching her. Vex has always been watching; Vax has always been living.

Vex is five when she starts keeping track of how much they spend: the cost of a stale loaf of bread, of hot cocoa, of a new scarf – green and gold and _beautiful_ – for their mother's birthday. She's the one who keeps a sheet of parchment hidden underneath her pillow and the one that talks Vax out of spending too much on sweets when their mother smiles at him and pretends they have coppers enough for both the sweets and her own dinner. Vex may have been a child like any other, still is in so many other ways, but she can barely remember a time when each coin was not precious.

 

The first time that she touches a gold coin, Vex is thirteen. Her father is not like her mother, both in money and in love, and he does not so much shower them in his riches as not notice when they spend it on food and trinkets and whatever else they wish. The gold shines like nothing that Vex has ever seen before, in a way that makes her _want_ , and she takes to carrying one in her pocket, where she can run her fingers over the smooth surface and the beveled edge. One day, of course, Vax catches her and steals it out of her pocket, laughing, his hair wild and his eyes bright; "Brother!" Vex yells at him, upset before she can catch herself, "Give it back." She holds her hand out, puts her best pout on her face – the one that works even on Vax, waits impatiently for his glee to run out.

It takes a while – longer because Vax has always enjoyed annoying those he cares about a little too much – but Vex can wait him out better than anyone else. She gets her coin back, the red of her cheeks mostly dissipated, and Vax grins at her, quick and sly and every inch the boy he is. She runs her thumb against the engraving of the coin as she slips it back into her pocket. "I like it," she tells him, that night, serious, though she doesn't fully understand why. Only that, like Vax, the weight of the coin in her pocket pools unexpected warmth in her gut. 

The coin and the easiness of this life feel like luck – like they'll always be safe, never have to worry each day, each hour, like they once did. 

 

Their luck doesn't run for very much longer, of course; it may be Vax's idea, but Vex is the one that pulls the trigger. In the dead of the night, they pack up as much as they can from their father's house: the satchels bulging with dried fruit and jerky, with bedrolls, with the thirteen gold laying around their rooms. The wind is brisk against Vex's face, the memory of their mother's gaze warm, the smile on her brother's face _real_ – at last, actually, real – and finally that's enough, finally it doesn't matter what they're throwing away. 

"Father doesn't give a _shit_ about us," Vax screams at her, two days before. His face is red, his eyes clouded with anger and desperation and he's done, done with this all in a way that Vex knows she can't change. She's been trying and failing to make him hold it in for so long that she doesn't remember the last time he was really happy. She doesn't remember the last time that she was not amused, not satisfied, not putting a mask of joy for their father, but _happy_. "Mother sent us away," she says, biting her lip and tucking her hair behind her ear, "At least here we're not a burden."

Vax scoffs, says, "Is that the goal, dear sister? Comfort? Laying on a pile of riches that add up to nothing at all and pretending that's enough?

"It's not enough, Vex. This fucking... prison of city with all of these people who hate us?" He breathes hard, closes his eyes and let's his head drop forward until his chin is resting on his chest.

Vex hurts for him, the pain sharp in her chest and the beginnings of bile clawing up her throat. She can feel the tears – his tears – in her own eyes. She doesn't know what to say: "Brother," she tries.

"He doesn't love us," Vax says, his voice breaking. 'Love', Vex thinks, is only a memory in her own mind – the faint imprint of the smell of old carpet and her mother's hair and the forest. 'Love' is a thing that Vex can't define, not anymore, because she doesn't love Vax, she _is_ him. Vax is the one to carry it all – the meaning and the memory and the burden of both – and he's the one who's known, who's always just known, that they were never meant to stay.

"Okay," Vex says, moving forward to curl an arm around his shoulders, "Let's go home."

 

Afterwards, there is pain and dragon ash and only ten pieces of gold left. She does not blame Vax; she tries not to blame herself.

 

They survive only by the skin of their teeth, only by Vax who keeps pushing them forward when Vex's memories collapse into emotions that she hasn't let herself feel for years. Vax learns to wield daggers and Vex learns to hunt and they stretch the gold as far as they can, even though it's not close to enough. It takes them time; it takes throwing themselves into every opportunity; it takes sacrifice. They spend their days trying to find some, any work, and at the beginning they spend most of their nights shivering, huddled together, a meal a day shared between them. In the beginning, the pockets of Vex's cloak are more often empty than not and Vax's grin is more often brittle than it is whole. It has neither the love of their childhood nor the convenience of their adolescence. Still, they fight through it in the way that they always have, always will.

Still, they're them and, for the moment, that's enough.

 

It's years later when they end up in Stillbend. It's humid and smells of algae and both of their hair have turned into messes of frizz and sweat. At some point in the intervening time, Vax has become a man – accomplished and deadly and somehow still wholly himself. Somehow, Vex has changed too, though it's harder to tell how. Now, Trinket is a constant presence at her side and the huff of his breath is warm, comforting; the twang of her bow is as familiar as Vax's voice. Vex feels complete; she doesn't know what's missing, only that something is.

In Stillbend, there's a job and that job comes with a group of people, thrown together by circumstance. A goliath and a dragonborn, two gnomes and a human and another half-elf. They're nothing like anything she thought she'd be a part of – they're a mess of tangles and sharp elbows and not fitting together. They agree to work together, just for this, one job, except that it turns into two, then three. Before they know it, they've been together for six weeks with no end in sight.

 

Vox Machina, as they've dubbed themselves, are at a bar, four months later, when Vex takes a gold coin from the small pouch attached to her belt. She turns it over in her fingers, watches the light glint off of it. "Shiny," says Grog, smiling, wide, down at her. It's not the first coin, not the second – those have been long lost, spent on food or shelter or crisis – but it's the one that Vex has earned. This one has been a lifetime in the making: her drive and Vax at her back and this new group of people, who she's only met, but are inching their way towards family. She grins, a quick upturn of her lips, and looks around at them.

Vax is laughing, his eyes warm and shining in the light, and the rest of Vox Machina are chattering, gathered around the two of them. Vex thinks, finally, she might have found both of the things she's always wanted.


End file.
